Hull down with the early sunlight were two ships, and at first it seemed likely that the enemy had somehow found the means to frustrate any attempt of evacuation. But as the vessels tacked this way and that, drawing nearer and nearer to land with each change of course, they were both identified and cheered. Not only had the sloop-of-war, Spite, come for them, but also the thirty-two-gun frigate Vanquisher, sent, it seemed, by Rear-Admiral Coutts himself. As soon as it was light enough the work of collecting and burying the dead got under way. Across the causeway, now partially submerged, a few corpses rolled and moved with the current. Most had been carried away to deeper water during the night, or retrieved perhaps by their comrades. Paget was everywhere. Bullying, suggesting, threatening, and occasionally tossing a word of encouragement as well. The sight of the two ships put fresh life into his men, and even though neither of them was a match for well-sited shore batteries, they would shorten the work of evacuation.
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